sometimes, people just die (and sometimes, they don't)
by Snarkymuch
Summary: The final battle ends, and Tony is dead. Peter's heart is torn from his chest. He is angry and hurting. Tony wasn't supposed to die. Electricity dances across Peter's skin, and he blinks. When his eyes open again, he's back in Tony's arms, the battle raging around him. He's given the chance to save Tony, but how many times can you watch someone die before giving up?


Pepper gently pulled Peter away from where Tony lay slumped, his eyes unfocused and body nearly motionless. She knelt before him.

"Hey," Pepper breathed.

Peter's enhanced hearing was the only thing that allowed him to hear Tony's reply. It was breathy and weak. "Hey, Pep."

She placed her hand on his reactor, and Peter swallowed back against the painful lump in his throat. Everything about this was wrong, so wrong. Tony wasn't meant to die—not like this. There was still so much he had to learn from him. He was as close to a father figure as Peter had, and now he was leaving him, too. Everyone left him in the end. It was the Parker Curse.

"Friday?" Pepper asked. It was a simple question. Peter didn't need to hear the answer to know it wasn't good.

"Life functions critical."

Tony's mouth twitched into something of a smile, and the tears in Peter's eyes fell, burning hot tracks through the dirt and soot on his cheeks.

"Tony," she said, moving her head to meet his gaze. "Tony, look at me."

Tony's head rolled to the side, and Peter's breath caught in his throat. The air between Tony and Pepper was intimate, and Peter almost felt like he was intruding. This wasn't the first time he'd watched someone die, and it probably wouldn't be the last. That thought didn't bring him any comfort.

"We're gonna be okay," Pepper said, her voice stronger than Peter could have ever been. "You can rest now."

As Tony's chest fell still, a thought, a wish, framed itself in Peter's mind. If only he could go back—if only he could try again. There was a strange prickling sensation on his skin—not unlike his spidey sense. Blinking away tears, he looked around. The Avengers were falling to their knees in respect. Anger bubbled up in him. Tony wasn't supposed to die.

He looked back at Tony, a sea of emotion churning in him, and he blinked. And in that blink, everything shifted. When he opened his eyes, the world had changed—returned back to the roaring battle.

Tony was standing in front of him again, alive and breathing. He grabbed Peter and pulled him into a hug, a hug that Peter remembered because it happened not even an hour ago. His breath caught as Tony tightened his hold. Peter could see and hear the battle raging over Tony's shoulder.

It seemed impossible, but it was real. It felt real. It made no sense, though. Only moments ago, Tony's body had been lifeless, his chest no longer taking breath, and now he was here, alive. He didn't know what to think.

Peter had seen impossible things, and as unlikely as time travel seemed, there wasn't a better explanation. He thought back to the moment it happened, remembering that strange feeling of electricity dancing on his skin. It was almost like magic. Maybe it was. He'd wished for another chance. Was this universe answering him?

Even though he had his doubts, he set himself to fight. He couldn't watch Tony die again. He needed to try to change things for the better.

Peter took Tony's shoulders and moved him back. Licking his lips, he tasted dirt. Tony's face was tired, he looked older, but then Strange had said it had been five years. Peter couldn't begin to imagine what Tony must have gone through during that time.

"Kid?"

Swallowing nervously, Peter gathered himself to speak. "Hey, Mr. Stark."

"We don't have a lot of time, but are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Peter blinked a few times, the lump in his throat back. Tony had no idea how accurate his words were.

"It's just really good to see you again," Peter said.

There was so much Peter wanted to say, but there wasn't time—not if he wanted to change things, even if he wasn't convinced it was real. An explosion nearby sent gravel and debris scattering around them. Peter glanced at the carnage before his gaze fell back on Tony.

"We should probably go."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right. Just promise me something."

"Anything."

"Stay safe."

Peter nodded. "You too, Mr. Stark."

With one last look at his mentor, Peter joined the fray. He activated instant kill. He wasn't going to lose. This time he went straight for Thanos. It wasn't a thought-out plan. It was a visceral and raw reaction to watching Tony die, something he wouldn't let happen again.

He tore his way across the battlefield to Thanos, but by the time he got there, the Titan already had the gauntlet on his hand. The change of events seemed to have had a ripple effect, letting Thanos gain possession of the gauntlet sooner.

Peter charged at him but was deflected like a mere annoyance, his instant kill mode doing nothing to stop the Titan. Movement beside him caught his eye. Tony was there, making a move for the gauntlet. All Peter could see were his eyes—not the ones currently full of life and determination—but the empty, lifeless ones that had cut through Peter's soul only an hour ago.

Needing to do something, Peter shot out a web, hitting Tony's feet and making him falter. Momentary relief washed over him at stopping Tony, but a deep laugh made Peter turn to the Titan.

With a wicked grin, Thanos brought his fingers together. Time seemed to slow. Peter cried out, shooting a web at the gauntlet, but it was too late. Metal slid against metal, the stones burned bright, and in a heartbeat, there was darkness.

Peter opened his eyes, and Tony was in front of him again, pulling him into a hug. He was back at the same moment as before.

Peter yanked back from Tony's hold, startling the man. He looked around wildly, his hands out at his sides. It felt real. He could smell the smoke in the air.

Time had reset.

Tony reached out to him, but Peter stumbled back. He thought back to the movie Groundhog Day that he used to watch with his Uncle Ben. As a kid, he thought it would be so cool to be in a time loop, but now that he was, it didn't seem that way at all.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tugged at his hair, jumping when a hand grabbed his wrist. Tony's concerned filled eyes were locked on him. Peter shook his head and dropped his hands. Tony let go, taking a step back.

"Kid, what's wrong?"

Peter's brows pulled together, and he frowned. It was chaos around them. He settled his gaze back on Tony.

"Everything, Mr. Stark, everything is wrong, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Kid, you need to breathe," Tony said. "Look at me, Peter. Everything's gonna be okay. I know it's scary right now, but it'll work out."

Peter shook his head, grief straining his features. "That's the thing. I know it won't be."

"You can't know that. We can win. Strange said we had a chance."

"Maybe we win, but you're gonna die, and I can't handle that again. I can't watch you die again."

"What are you talking about?"

He licked his lips, closing his eyes. "I watched you die. I've seen it. You take the gauntlet and snap, and we win, but you die."

Peter watched as Tony's expression shifted, taking on the same edge as when he was dissecting a particularly hard problem.

"You've done this before?" Tony said slowly, and Peter nodded. The crease between Tony's brows deepened. "That can't be right. Are you from the future?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening, but this is the third time I've done this."

Tony's brow scrunched, and he was quiet for a moment. "Like Groundhog Day?"

Relief washed over him. "Yes, exactly like that."

"Okay, right, but we win?"

"Yeah, I mean the first time, like the real-time, but the second, I went off script and tried to stop you, but Thanos got the gauntlet and snapped."

"But it reset, and you're back?"

Peter nodded. It felt good to have Tony at his side.

"Okay, this is complicated. Honestly, I don't know what to say. We don't have much time."

An alien jumped over the rubble pile beside Peter, making him stumble out of the way. Tony blasted it in the chest.

"What should I do?"

Tony frowned. "Well, we don't know when the loop will end, so you can't give up, and you can't do anything stupid."

"I wouldn't."

Tony raised a brow. "We both know you would."

Another explosion rattled them, and Peter's gaze roamed the battlefield.

He looked back at Tony. "There's nothing I can do is there?"

Tony was quiet for a moment. "I don't know."

Peter's heart sank, fear trickling through his veins. If Tony couldn't help him, then what hope was there?

"Just—just stick with what you know," Tony said, looking stricken. "I'll try to think of something, but promise me, Peter. No crazy risks, no dying. This isn't a movie. We don't know when the loop will break." He paused, face scrunching in pain. "I can't—I can't lose you again."

Not trusting his voice, Peter just gave him a tight nod.

Twenty minutes later, Peter was running toward Tony as he raised his gauntleted hand. He shouted to him to wait, but Tony only smiled sadly before bringing his fingers together to snap.

Peter blinked, and he felt Tony's arms pulling him in for a hug. This time Peter just closed his eyes and cried, face twisting in pain against Tony's shoulder. The man didn't ask, just pulled him closer, murmuring reassurances against his hair.

He didn't bother explaining it this time. Pulling away, he dried his tears and took off into battle, leaving a confused Tony behind.

Peter was losing a fight to some giant alien otter when he blinked and found himself back in Tony's arms. He wasn't sure whether Tony had snapped or died, but either way, time reset.

Reality was beginning to blur with nightmare. He didn't know what was real anymore. He tried different things, but the result was the same. Time reset. And always back to the hug. Each time it grew more painful.

Peter stood stiffly as Tony hugged him. He was numb, having spent countless cycles trying to save Tony. The last round had ended when Peter was impaled, falling from the Pegasus.

Tony pulled back, eyes roaming over him. Peter just sighed and walked over to a rock, plopping down. He kicked out his feet and resigned himself to wait.

"Kid, what are you doing?"

Peter shrugged, ducking just a moment before the expected explosion to his right.

"What's going on? I know this is a lot, but you gotta get up."

Peter's forehead furrowed as he took in Tony's concern. He couldn't be bothered, though. He'd done this too many times. He fully intended to spend this loop sitting right there.

"Well?" Tony asked.

Peter shrugged again, moving to lean against a piece of rubble. He closed his eyes and waited. Tony yelled for a few minutes, but eventually, the battle drew him away. It took fifteen minutes for an alien to shoot Peter, and another five to die. He'd find a better place to sit next time.

Time passed in a horrible, swirling blur. It was like being in Van Gogh's painting Starry Night. Everything seemed to twist and melt into the next line.

The moment Tony hugged him was the only constant anymore, and it was a painful one. He started to lose track of time entirely.

He was tired, his memories full of death and carnage. He'd watched Tony die trying to save him. He'd died himself trying to save Tony. Thanos got the gauntlet a few times, and they'd all died. Nothing seemed to make a difference. Maybe this was his hell, the universe's cruel joke.

Worn out, Peter wandered the battlefield. He knew the best paths to take. He came across Doctor Strange and acknowledged him with a nod. Peter hadn't really interacted with him much. The few times he tried, he'd ended up dead, not from Doctor Strange, but from something else. One time a flying alien whale thing had crushed him as it was blasted from the sky.

"Do you not see the battle around you?" Doctor Strange asked. "This isn't the time for an afternoon stroll."

"Oh, uh, sorry, Mister—Doctor Strange, sir."

The doctor raised a brow. "There is something off about you—your presence. It isn't sitting right in time."

"Yeah, I know. You said that before."

Strange's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Peter sighed. He hated repeating himself, and he'd had this conversation once before. "I'm in a time loop. Don't say it's not possible because, clearly, it is. Yes, we win sometimes. No, I don't know how many times it's been. And yeah, Tony always dies—or I do."

The lines of Strange's face deepened. "This is unexpected. I didn't see this outcome."

"And yet here we are," Peter said. "Hey, you don't happen to have any snacks on you. It's been like forever since I ate, not that I really need to, but I kinda miss it, you know?"

"No, I don't have any snacks," Strange said. "Now tell me, how have you tried to end it?"

"Uh, I've tried like everything at this point, or well, I think. It's not like I know why it's even happening."

"There must be a constant, something happening that resets the loop."

"Yeah, okay." Peter thought for a moment. "I guess it resets when either me or Mr. Stark die."

"Then maybe for it to end, you both must live. Time loops, though rare, happen for a reason. Usually to restore balance or right a wrong. Maybe there is another way, other than the one I saw."

"Wait, do what?" Peter asked. "I'm supposed to just keep trying? There are thousands of variables, maybe even millions."

"Then it's a good thing you have all the time you need to find it."

Sticking with tradition, the water that was being held back broke free, and Peter drowned. Remind him not to talk to Strange again.

After going through the motions with Tony, Peter made his way to a quieter spot and thought over his options. A wild idea hit him, something he hadn't tried before. What if instead of passing the gauntlet off, he used it instead? It seemed like a death sentence, but he had nothing to lose. Maybe he'd survive it. His healing factor was strong. It would probably hurt, though.

Gathering himself, he started in the direction he knew the gauntlet would be traveling soon, so he could intercept. He dove between aliens and tumbled through the dirt. Once he had it, he clutched it to his chest, aiming for a spot where he wouldn't be interrupted. He found himself not far from the rubble pile that was the compound. Swallowing his nerves, he stared at the gauntlet, the stones glimmering even under the dreary sky. He lifted his gaze and surveyed the battlefield.

Thanos was in the distance, and the Titan's gaze fell on him. Peter's heart hammered in his chest. Thanos shoved Iron Man back and began in Peter's direction, ordering his followers after him. He didn't have time to waste. It was now or never. He slipped on the gauntlet. It was too big and awkward, but he made it work.

The power of the stones burned his arm, spreading like fire across his shoulder and up his neck. As he struggled to bring his fingers together, his eyes locked on Tony. His helmet was down, and Peter could see the moment of realization on his face. Horror painted the man's features. Peter couldn't hear him over the roar of the battle, but he could see the words as they were said, the plea to stop. Peter just shook his head and said, "I'm sorry," even though no one could hear.

Thanos was close, and Peter needed to act. He framed his wish in his mind, trying to make his intentions clear. With one last look at Tony, he raised his hand. The stones burned bright, sending tendrils of fire through his arm.

And then with one last breath, he snapped.

His vision began to go dark as fire seared his nerves. He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clenched his jaw. He was in agony. The sounds of the battle began to fade, and he opened his eyes just enough to see Thanos as he turned to dust, drifting into the wind. It had worked.

Time hadn't reset.

A smile tugged at his lips. His eyes fell shut, and his breathing stuttered.

A voice cut through the darkness. "Hang on, kid. Please, you can't go."

He felt arms around him, holding him. Tony was there. It began with a hug, and now it would end with one.

"Don't go," Tony pleaded.

Peter wished he could hang on, Tony sounded desperate, but the darkness was pulling him under.

It felt like a heavy blanket wrapped around his mind, and he was floating. There was no pain. He couldn't measure time in the nothingness. It was quiet and peaceful. Sometimes voices would float by, words just out of reach. Even though he couldn't understand them, they were familiar and comforted him.

Eventually, light began to seep in around the edges, and the voices grew louder. Peter cringed away from the harsh edges, trying to hide in the shadows. The darkness shrank back until it was consumed by the light, then all at once, sensation returned.

Pain flared across his arm and shoulder, and he gasped, eyes snapping open. He blinked against the bright lights of the room.

"Friday, lights down to twenty percent."

Breathing through gritted teeth, Peter rolled his head to the side. Tony was beside him, looking older and more tired than before. His beard was ragged and overgrown. There were dark smudges under his eyes. He stepped closer to the bed, fiddling with the buttons on the IV stand. When he was done, he rested a hand on Peter's uninjured arm.

"The pain meds should kick in soon."

Peter couldn't believe it. After so many tries, it was finally over. Tears slipped down his cheek.

"Where am I?"

Tony's thumb moved back and forth against his arm. "My house—cabin, actually."

Peter nodded, taking in the light blue walls and soft curtains around the window. He'd begun to think he'd never leave the battlefield. He looked at Tony.

"Is it really over?"

Tony rubbed his jaw. "Yeah, it's over, though I don't approve of your methods. It should have been me."

Peter shook his head. "You would have died. You had to live to make it end. We both did."

Tony's brows knit together. "Why does it feel like I'm missing something?"

Peter choked back a half-laugh, half-sob. "You know the movie Groundhog Day?"

Tony frowned, shifting weight between his feet. He studied Peter for a moment before straightening, maybe the reality of his words sinking in. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I wish I was."

Tony was silent for a minute. "How long? How many times?"

Peter's gaze flicked to his right hand, taking in the bandages on his arm. He stared at them for a moment before looking back at Tony. "The first time, the real first time, we won, but you died. I don't know what happened or how, but suddenly everything shifted, and we were back in the battle, and you were pulling me into a hug."

Tony's face was a blank mask. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "How many times?"

"Too many—way too many."

"Why didn't you come to me?"

Peter averted his eyes. "I did, a few times, but it never helped. After a while, it got too painful." He paused, taking a breath. "I watched you die so many times. I died so many times. I didn't think it would ever end, you know. Sometimes I'd just give up and—and let myself get killed just so I didn't have to watch you die again."

Tony's face contorted in pain. _"Kid."_

"It's okay. I'm fine now. Really, Mr. Stark, it could have been worse."

"How, Peter? Going through the battle once is enough to give anyone nightmares."

Peter looked up at him. "You could have died, for real. When I thought I'd lost you—" He sucked in a breath. "I can't lose another person I care about," he whispered, closing his eyes.

A hand cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears. He opened his eyes to see Tony looking down at him.

"I can't lose you either, kiddo. Once was enough for a lifetime. You're just as much mine as Morgan is."

He shifted in the bed. "Who's Morgan?"

Tony smiled. "You'll meet her soon. She's great, Pete. Every bit her mother."

"So you and Miss Potts?"

"Married a few years back."

The pain meds were starting to work. "Wow, that's great. That's really great. I wish I could have been there."

Tony's smile slipped a little. "Me too, kiddo, me too."

Peter's eyelids began to droop. He didn't want to fall asleep. He wanted to stay with Tony and meet Morgan. He wanted to call May. It had been so long since he'd seen her.

Tony must have seen him struggling to keep his eyes open because he was quick to speak. "Sleep, kid. I'm not going anywhere. We'll all be here in the morning."

"What if there is no tomorrow?"

Tony brushed Peter's hair back. "I promise there will be."

Blinking a few more times, he finally lost the battle to stay awake, and his eyes slipped closed. He drifted off to sleep with Tony standing guard against the nightmares, finally knowing that things would be okay.


End file.
